The Cycle of Power, War, and Forgotten Outrage

Waking up in 2026 and hearing the dictators of this world deciding the fate of innocent children, women, and men all to feed their own agendas. Agendas that, when stripped back to their core, are quite simple: invade, steal, and control.

It has been thousands of years of this. Cycles of conflict, back and forth, moments of forgiveness, attempts at restoration and still the same patterns repeat. Power exercised without restraint, decisions made by those far removed from the lives they alter.

The United States, quite literally in the hands of interests that seem far removed from morality, leaders of dictatorship, often using political necessity as justification to tell us, the mere mortals living under these systems, that our lives do not compare to oil, influence, or strategic alliances.

Then the UK, weak and feeble in its posture, rarely setting the tone, often following the masses.

The problems of this world lie in many hands, not just the ones currently under the spotlight. Yet one thing remains true across them all: we, the nation, elected them.

And still, we get used to complaining without offering solutions.

Isn’t it funny how quickly our outrage shifts? Two weeks ago, attention was fixed on the Epstein files and the young girls whose lives were destroyed by the sickness of powerful men, men like Trump, Andrew, and others who sit comfortably within systems of power.

How short our collective memory can be.

How powerful the media is in directing and orchestrating where our anger should sit next.

In just the first two months of 2026 alone, how much information have we been fed? And how are we expected to organise it, to decide which injustice deserves our outrage today, and which one must wait?

There are individuals trying, in their own ways, to shift the narrative. People attempting to create incentives for peace, for compassion, for real change.

But the noise of evil screams twenty octaves louder.

And so we pick our outrage from the headlines presented to us, giving two days of attention to one crisis before moving on to the next.

Meanwhile:

Palestine is still being hit.

Sudan still has over 12 million civilians displaced and facing famine.

Congo continues to spill blood while sexual violence remains widespread.

Ukraine still deals with bombed cities.

Yemen continues its civil war amid severe shortages of food and medical care.

Syria continues to endure violence.

South Sudan struggles with ethnic conflict.

Myanmar civilians are still fleeing airstrikes.

Afghanistan civilians continue to die in clashes and bombings.

The common thread through all of it is painfully simple: innocent civilians continue to die at the hands of those in power, many of whom were elected and they will likely continue to die.

The world is, and has long been, in ruin.

So for those of us who are still largely untouched by the full scale of these atrocities, the civilians who have yet to feel the direct weight of these monstrosities:

What do we do?

Some say the answer is to hit them where it hurts.

Stop paying. Stop spending. Withdraw from the systems that fund the very structures causing harm.

But let’s be honest, that will likely hurt us more than it hurts them. The everyday people. The ones already navigating rising costs, shrinking stability, and the pressure of simply surviving. Those in power will remain largely untouched, and if anything, they will punish us for breaking laws, despite many of them being felons themselves.

So what do we do?

The truth is, I’m not entirely sure.

But perhaps the start is simple: refusing to turn a blind eye to the suffering of others, regardless of where they live or what flag they stand under.

Maybe it begins closer to home than we realise.

Treat the people around you with respect.

Show kindness where you can.

Offer a smile.

Because while the world continues to wrestle with power, greed, and violence, there is a lot worse happening beyond the borders of our everyday lives.

And chances are, if you are reading this, you are not the one currently living through it.